


Decorative

by truc



Series: Superbatweek 2020 [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Art, Brother Eye (mentioned), Creepy Bruce, Free day, Just... Creepy, M/M, No rape/sex/touching tough, Stillness, Torture, decorative, insane Bruce, non-consensual body use, nothing violent nor gory, objectifying, plant - Freeform, superbatweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25149904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truc/pseuds/truc
Summary: "I fall in love with objects and build the room around them."-Bruce WayneDay 5 of the Superbatweek 2020: "Free Day"
Relationships: Batman/Superman
Series: Superbatweek 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841941
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Decorative

**Author's Note:**

> Bruce is serial killer creepy without the killer part.

Clark doesn't know how long he's been there, conscious but immobile.

_Completely immobile._

The wall in front of him hasn't changed; it's all a dark grey with subtle imperfections: a person's unsmooth disposition of paint on a wall, something Clark never used to ponder. Were the indentations there on purpose? Could a human see all the wall's small mishaps and imperfections?

Now, it's his entire universe.

He's looking without blinking, seeing without touching. His brain is intact, untouched. Maybe that's the worst part.

He can think and interpret at superspeed, but he can't twitch his fingers; can't eat; can't talk.

When Bruce's face appears in his field of vision, he rejoices at the change of scenery like Pavlov's dog at the bell's sound. Bruce still has the same stormy blue eyes, the ardent purple-black eyes, the perfectly coiffed black hair, the strong jawline, the almost deadly white skin tone, the chaffed lips and slightly broken nose. Before, Clark would have concluded Bruce was tired and beautiful.

Now, Clark focuses on all the signs he should have seen before; the dilated pupils, wild spark in his eye, stiffness of his jaw and creases between the eyes. He can even recognize that Bruce's unnatural stillness was not only a result of relentless training.

Bruce is insane.

Not in the joke-kind of way either.

Clark knows this is all Batman's fault.

He became the paranoid one on their team, the cautious one. The League relied on the label like a crutch, forgetting they all had the same duty of cautiousness, of evaluating the facts in front of them.

They failed to see how Batman was crushing Bruce, missed that Bruce was struggling with his mental health. They arrogantly thought Batman filled their cautious member's quota.

What a mistake that had been.

Bruce observes him, his eyes roving up and down his best friend's body. Jealousy courses in Clark; envy of that primitive human function, anger at his condition.

Bruce smiles enticingly at him. "Clark, you're beautiful."

That's enough for Clark to feel insulted and complimented all at once.

People had always commented on Superman's looks favourably, objectified him even. But not to this extent.

Not to the point of positioning him naked in their office and looking at him with delight at least once daily.

Bruce always compliments him and never touches him, as if Clark's a priceless piece of art instead of a person.

"I don't want to sully you, Clark," Bruce explains. "To ruin you like this world ruins humans. You're truly perfect. I can look at you each day, yet I'm still dazzled by your radiance, your beauty, inner and outy."

Bruce jokes nowadays. That's something else that changed since Bruce started micromanaging the Earth with some computer help- Brother Eye, was it?

("You used to tell me, Clark, that I can't save everyone. Now, with a bit of help, I can.")

Worse, the admiration in Bruce's tone resonates with its authenticity. Despite everything he jokes about, he's not jesting about his feelings for Clark. Oh, no, since a robot placed Clark in his pose, he can see some things very clearly indeed.

Despite the numerous brush offs, Bruce did reciprocate Clark's love long before he snapped.

The irony burns in Clark's chest every day.

He doesn't even know what made Bruce snapped and micromanaged the world. None of Bruce's family members are dead; the League members are all alive; Gotham is still standing.

Maybe, nothing's wrong but, Bruce.

Clark's nose itches. He can't scratch it.

Eyes still pierce through his soul, stalkerish love in their gaze.

Cruelty at its apex; nobody else knows this is the worst torture possible for Superman, for Clark Kent: being unable to participate in life, his or this world.

Bruce even called him his decorative plant.

("As long as you get some sun, you can live on indefinitely.")

Clark hopes he doesn't.

He's afraid this stillness will make him as insane as Bruce is.

Maybe that's where it all started; perhaps Bruce got tortured to insane stillness. He may be infecting everyone.

That's one of the countless scenarios Clark comes up to explain this madness.

He hopes one of them is true.


End file.
